|
|
Post by blaise fiacre zabini on Aug 6, 2011 23:57:32 GMT -5
Waking up Blaise sighed his head well it hurt. He rolled over and landed on the floor? Why was he on his living room floor and not his bed. He groaned as his head pounded, he was cold and only in his boxers and there was someone else clothing on the floor. Or right, he and Eudoxia had gone out drinking. They managed to stumble back to his place and he being the gentleman had offered his bed, and his shirt. He stumbled to the bedroom and landed on the other side of the king sized four poster bed the little brunette had curled up in. He should have shared it with her, his neck wouldn’t have hurt so badly. ”Hey- you alive.”
”No-Go away.” She groaned and he rolled over on his side, away from her before falling back to sleep. Only to wake up a few hours later to the Spaniard leaping from the bed muttering curse words. ”Oye- slow down your head has got to hurt as bad as mine. Though he would never admit it, for fear she might snap his neck she looked adorable hopping around the room freaking out in shirt that was clearly too big for her. ”Don’t worry, we didn’t sleep together I slept on the couch untila few hours ago.” This seemed to relax her and she started laughing, to which he started laughing as he pulled on a clean shirt she pulled on the skirt she had been wearing. ”So I am doing the walk of shame without having something to be ashamed of.” He nodded after summoning a cup of coffee for them she sat back on the bed taking the cup she took a sip and he did the same. ”Thank you.” he nodded and they stood up. The obvious movement was to the door. He opened it and smiled. ”Thanks I needed a good night.” She handed him the mug. ”Anything for my favorite client and coworker- and don’t worry if anyone asks you were amazing.” Blaise snorted. ”And you were anything but sleazy.” She was a good friend, he had actually rather enjoyed the previous evening even with the hangover.
|
|
|
|
Post by tracey jasmine davis on Aug 7, 2011 0:57:18 GMT -5
Unfortunately for Blaise, the moment the door opened was the exact moment that Tracey had reached the floor of his apartment, a bag of take out breakfast in her hand as a peace offering. When she, immediately, spotted Blaise's shirt on his accountant's slim body. If anyone asked he was amazing? If anyone asked she wasn't sleazy? "Sorry to interrupt," She said, venomously, before narrowing her eyes at Blaise, I was just coming by to apologize, but that hardly seems necessary," She added. So much for breakfast - the cad was sleeping with his accountant after assuring her that he wasn't.
|
|
|
|
Post by blaise fiacre zabini on Aug 7, 2011 1:11:21 GMT -5
Blaise wiped his face and sighed as the familiar voice stung his already taxed brain. He mouthed an I’m sorry to the Spaniard. This was hardly how he wanted to end what had been a relatively nice night. She shrugged it off, if anyone knew about his trouble Tracey it was her, which was the reason she had been over at all. Not sleeping with Blaise, they were being goofy which he couldn’t do anymore given the fact Tracey was there. Like she had any room to talk, did she really think he didn’t know about Nott? Why else had he ended up so bloody drunk? ”See you tomorrow, I have the Whitmore Incorporated brief finished.” He waved and she got out of there quickly lucky little thing. ”Unfortunately Tracey there is no need to waste your breath, there is very little you can say to make me forgive you.” He turned and headed back into his flat to clean up the mess he had to right the couch and make the bed, and then maybe go for a run.
|
|
|
|
Post by tracey jasmine davis on Aug 7, 2011 12:48:54 GMT -5
Annoyed with him but not his accountant, Tracey let the woman go without even a scathing glance. "How dare you?" She demanded, following him despite the fact that she knew he didn't want her to. "I came here to talk to you and find the woman you explicitly told me you wouldn't be sleeping with, wearing your clothes and talking about how amazing you were - but you are mad at me?" Tracey asked, then shook her head, leaving the breakfast she'd brought on his kitchen table, "I made a mistake last night, and I wanted to apologize, but you don't even care." She added, somewhat incredulous. How dare he? She was the best thing that'd ever happened to him, and he refused to even listen to her? Ridiculous.
|
|
|
|
Post by blaise fiacre zabini on Aug 7, 2011 13:00:31 GMT -5
Letting out a sigh he shook his head. ”Typical Tracey, you have never trusted me.” He sighed, when did he decide he was in love with this drama queen? ”I did not sleep with her, I slept on the bloody couch, we were joking.” He shook his head and looked at her. ”We had fun, stress free and drama free fun, you should try it sometime.” The fact was Tracey had hurt him much worse than she could care to understand, Nott? Fucking Nott? Who the hell did she think he was that in some strange world, that mistake would ever be okay? ”If that’s all Tracey I am going to go back to bed.” He turned to look at her
|
|
|
|
Post by tracey jasmine davis on Aug 7, 2011 13:15:15 GMT -5
He was such a prat. They were joking. Of course they were. She believed him - because he had no reason to lie - but even still, the fact that he couldn't see why she would jump to conclusions irritated her. The fact was, she did have drama and stress free fun the night before - with Theo. Blaise obviously knew about that, else he wouldn't be as mad as he obviously was. "Give me twenty minutes," She requested, though she didn't intend to stand there and talk to him for twenty minutes. No, she had a very different intention.
Taking off the black platform pumps she'd worn to his flat - his favourite pair, she knew from the time she wore them, a trenchcoat, and little else to his office - and made her way to his bedroom, opening his closet door to grab the things she kept inside the walk in. After all, he had just said she wouldn't be forgiven, so why should she let her clothes sit, neglected, in his closet?
|
|
|
|
Post by blaise fiacre zabini on Aug 7, 2011 13:22:44 GMT -5
”You have ten.” He said looking at her sighing. For someone who had constantly flung accusations his way she as hell was asking a lot of him to just forgive her, over breakfast.. Where she flung more accusations he way. He was so tired of dodging them of explaining himself. He went about straightening the living room finding that he would have items to return to his co worker. Jesus how the hell did they get home last night? He had no recollection of anything after he kicked her in the shin. Which he now felt bad about, it probably hurt. Sitting down with his shirt and her shirt in his hand he rubbed his eyes and sighed. God his head hurt. He needed to go back to bed.
|
|
|
|
Post by tracey jasmine davis on Aug 7, 2011 13:31:40 GMT -5
She had an obscene amount of clothing at his residence. Ten minutes wouldn't even be enough to locate all of it! But even still, Tracey set diligently to work, stuffing things into the purse she had just cast a charm on, so it would fit everything. after gently placing her dresses and shirts, she found a couple pairs of shorts, two skirts... and her lingerie drawer. Deciding to be a bitch, Tracey left the lingerie that he had most recently bought her hanging on a hanger where the rest of her clothes used to be as a reminder of what he'd let walk out of his life.
The set was nice but the revenge was nicer. With only her shoes left, she went to the other room, prodding through the drawer thought she had very little time left, of her ten minutes. She wondered if he realized that once she left it would likely be forever - but she didn't mention it. Foolish Blaise. Grabbing her last pair of shoes, she hiked the bag up onto her shoulder and headed back towards the door. 12 minutes. Oh well. She wanted to say something snide as she passed him on her way towards the door, but instead she just walked right past, not looking at him. "Goodbye." She said simply as she dropped her bag to the floor and slid her feet into her shoes more slowly than she normally would because of the welling tears in her eyes. She wanted to be strong enough to walk away like a bitch, but apparently loving someone didn't go away just because you wanted it to.
|
|
|
|
Post by blaise fiacre zabini on Aug 7, 2011 13:50:01 GMT -5
The tapping at the window made him stand and let the poor owl in who dropped the letter in his lap. He turned as Tracey stood in the room. He was upset about it, he didn’t want her to leave but what was he supposed to do, the reason she had been accusing him of all of this was because she was guilty of it. Blaise sighed and looked at her. ”Did you get it all then?” He asked not wanting to deal with having to give her what she left. ”You can take the breakfast as well.” He was too hung over to eat.
|
|
|
|
Post by tracey jasmine davis on Aug 7, 2011 19:19:04 GMT -5
Tracey didn't bother answering him, grabbing the breakfast she'd brought along and shaking her head at him, disappointed. She never thought he could be so... cold hearted. Of course, it shouldn't have surprised her, she supposed. He only said he cared about her to earn her forgiveness, he only ever mentioned it when she was mad at him. Even still, somewhere along the line she had started to believe it. That was probably the worst part; that she had believed him. That for all her bluster, she had always trusted him explicitly with what was most important, her heart.
Turning, trying to remain steady on her heels, which she'd never before had a problem with, she opened his door for what seemed to be the last time, and left, not bothering to look back.
|
|
